


Thinking Pawsitively

by WildandWhirling



Category: 1789 - バスティーユの恋人たち | 1789: Les Amants de la Bastille - Toho, 1789: Les Amants de la Bastille - Various Composers/Attia & Chouquet
Genre: Dogs, F/F, Fluff, I think I have a cavity now, Mentions of Madame de Tourzel, Modern AU, Petfic, Pets, Quintuple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 17:12:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18265784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildandWhirling/pseuds/WildandWhirling
Summary: Solène comes home to her apartment, only to find a surprise waiting there.





	Thinking Pawsitively

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paint_me_a_revolution](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paint_me_a_revolution/gifts).



> Shamefully predictable? Yes. But in my defense, the 1789 characters deserve all the pets. I might have gotten...a little further away from my wordcount goal than I wanted, but DOGS. FLUFFY DOGS. No one dies. Happiness. This doesn't happen all that often for me. Enjoy it.

“What’s that?”

 

Solène blamed it on a rough day. Her customers had been...weird. Not _creepy_ weird, but…. _normal_ weird, which meant that the money was great, but she also needed two things: A long shower and a long nap as soon as she was able to force herself off the serene pull of the couch.

 

She blamed it on that because otherwise there was no _way_ she wouldn’t have noticed her girlfriend giving a bath to a Borzoi mix  _in the middle of their kitchen_ , the metal tub taking up most of the room.

 

As soon as Solène spoke, Olympe scrambled, standing in front of the tub and putting on the innocent, angelic look on her face that Solène knew meant she was hiding something, even if the evidence wasn’t happily barking in the background.

 

“Nothing, nothing.” She tried to smooth out her skirt, which was hopelessly soaked.

 

Solène crossed her hands in front of her chest, which usually made Ronan’s friends jump back ten steps but was neutralized by the smile that escaped her. “You sound like Charlotte when you do that.”

 

“His name is Hugo, he’s two years old, and Madame de Tourzel would have sent him to the pound if I didn’t do anything. I can get him a home in a week--Three days!”

 

She looked between them, seeing the puppy dog eyes of the dog and the puppy dog eyes of Olympe who, even though she did have a younger sister, had spent the first eight years of her life as an only child and never forgot it.

 

Solène knelt by the tub, soaking her knees in spilled water. “Who does she think we are, hm, Hugo? Leaving you to Madame Severe. No,” she patted his side. “We’re going to care of you.”

 

She’d grown up with _Ronan_. Someone bringing in “pets” was nothing new. (She’d never forget the time he “forgot” to tell her about his pet toad...before she tried to take a bath. Their father claimed the screams could be heard across the village. And then she’d tried to chase him down with a rolling pin until he climbed a tree.)

 

“Really, Solène?” Olympe asked, and Solène could _feel_ her relief.

 

She nodded, “Of course.”

 

Olympe pulled her forward, pressing her lips against Solène’s. There was no pressure to heat things up, no pretense, just warmth, and Solène relaxed into it, hands settling at the nape of Olympe’s neck, playing with a strand of hair. They parted, Olympe openly, _brilliantly_ smiling as she nuzzled against Solène’s cheek.

 

And then Hugo decided it would be the opportune moment to shake himself, scattering water droplets everywhere with each sway of his body, soaking the both of them.

 

“So…” Olympe said, keeping a very cautious, tight smile on her face, “Does it still stand?”

 

Hugo licked Solène’s face, face splitting into a wide grin. He knew. He _knew_.

 

Solène sighed and scratched the dog’s head. “Welcome to the family, Hugo. You’ll fit in perfectly.”


End file.
